


Paper Words

by messyfeathers



Series: You Are Safe Now. [1]
Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Carlos is a Good Boyfriend, Cecil is a little damaged, Demisexual Cecil, Episode: e032 Yellow Helicopters, First Month Anniversary, Fluff, M/M, and a sense of foreboding, and has only very slightly implied supernatural powers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-08
Updated: 2014-02-08
Packaged: 2018-01-11 13:45:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1173768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/messyfeathers/pseuds/messyfeathers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nothing says 'Happy One-Month Anniversary!' like circling yellow helicopters and abrupt corporate takeovers by unknown and probably malicious major corporations.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paper Words

**Author's Note:**

> title of the work is loosely translated from ep. 32's weather, "Palabras de Papel" by Nelson Poblete

Carlos continued to knock fervently at the turquoise door until it finally opened.  “It’s 5 in the morning,” Cecil yawned as he rubbed at his eyes.  Due to the late-night nature of his job, Cecil was not a morning person - not even a little.  Carlos knew that, but he couldn’t help but want to spend what little time he could spare before work with his radio host.  After all, today marked one month since they had decided to officially start dating.  The scientist held out a hand with a smirk.  “We going somewhere?” Cecil asked as he attempted to smooth the sleep out of his platinum hair.  

“Maybe I just like waking you up unreasonably early,” Carlos grinned.  He reached his hand out a little further.  “Trust me.”  Cecil glanced down at his blue striped boxer shorts and the old t-shirt he had thrown on just to open the door.  

“You want me to go like this?”  The apprehension in his voice was palpable, since the morning was still dark and the air still felt brisk.  Not to mention what the vigilant Secret Police officers inevitably surveilling their behavior would think.

“There’s blankets in the car,” Carlos laughed as he took his hand and pulled him into the street all criss-crossed with pre-dawn shadows.  

Thirty minutes later they were warmly bundled on the hood of Carlos’s car, parked at the overlook to Radon Canyon.  If calculations held up, which was a definite if in Night Vale, the sun would rise any minute now.  Cecil was yawning through his second plastic cup of coffee while Carlos rambled on about the sun and its unusual placement lately and why he figured it had disappeared last Thursday altogether.  It wasn’t that Cecil didn’t care about Carlos and his science; on the contrary, he loved listening to the long-winded discourses on the existence of subatomic particles and the scientist’s insistence that the moon was real.  Sometimes it was just hard for Cecil to focus on the words that he didn’t understand, so he would choose to focus instead on the way the scientist’s chocolate eyes sparkled as he talked about molecular structures, the way his features lit up and even his hands became animated when he began in-depth explanations of carbon dating processes and fossil strata.  Carlos finished his latest monologue with a shivery breath.  “You just missed everything I said,” he chuckled with a shake of his head.  

“I was listening,” Cecil insisted.  “Maybe not understanding, but listening, definitely,” he added as he stared down into the empty little plastic cup in his hands and back at Carlos’s thermos.  The scientist relinquished the coffee with a dramatic sigh.  Cecil just made a gleeful little squeaking noise that was lost in the much louder squeaking noise that was the sunrise.  Carlos glanced down at the scribbled calculation on the scrap of paper in his pocket.  For once, the sun was right on time.  Bright beams of pink painted themselves across the pale violet dawn.  For a single moment, the whole world felt reborn in the first warm glimpses of sunlight.  Carlos took in the scene in a specific reverence; it reminded him of just how reborn he had been in the past few weeks.  Life was renewing itself all around him it seemed - even his appreciation of the noisy sunrise was proof of that.  He cast a sideways glance at Cecil whose face caught the beams of sunlight in such a way that he looked youthful and so full of wonder.  It seemed to be the perfect moment.  

“Do you know why I brought you out here on this specific morning?” he asked.  It took Cecil a moment to realize he’d been spoken to.  

“I’m sorry, it’s just so loud!” he shouted back apologetically.  

Possibly not the _perfect_ moment.  

Carlos repeated the question anyway, just louder this time.  There was a sparkle in Cecil’s eyes that suggested he knew very well why they were out there, but his lips mouthed otherwise.  

“Today,” Carlos began, nearly shouting to be heard over the sunrise.  Much too quickly to be normal, the sun was up and the world plunged into a sudden silence.  In the split second it took for Carlos to realize the end of the sunrise, Cecil had already begun laughing at the obscenely high volume of the conversation.  “This was a bad idea,” Carlos muttered, his cheeks flushing in embarrassment.  

“No, no, finish what you were going to say,” Cecil encouraged as he attempted to straighten his face.  

“I was saying today is one month since we decided to be a couple.”  Cecil’s delighted smile was almost as radiant as the sunrise had been.  

“I didn’t know if you wanted to celebrate things like month anniversaries, and I was far too afraid to ask,” Cecil gushed.  “I didn’t want you to think I was over eager or...” he trailed off abruptly and went back to smiling.  

“Well I have something for you.” Carlos reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small ordinary cardboard box, handing it to Cecil.  Inside, Cecil found a watch - not just any watch, but the simple silver watch on a black band that Carlos had worn every day since arriving in Night Vale.  “It’s not fancy or anything,” he explained.  “But as far as I can tell, it’s the one true timepiece in all of Night Vale.  And I wanted you to have it because ever since I moved here, it’s been the one thing that’s kept me grounded, kept me from losing my grasp on reality.  But now I have you, and you keep me grounded and you make me feel sane.”  

“But Carlos,” Cecil breathed as he traced a finger around the smooth edges of the watch face.  “You brought this from home, it’s far too valuable a gift to give.”  Carlos shook his head.  

“You’re right, it is valuable.  It means a lot to me.  Which is exactly why I wouldn’t want it to belong to anyone but you.”  Cecil placed a hand along Carlos’s face kissed him sweetly, reveling for a moment in the way they both tasted like instant vanilla espresso.  The dizzy smile that danced across Carlos’s face as he pulled away stopped Cecil’s heart for a moment.  

“I didn’t bring anything for you,” he admitted quietly.  Instantly Carlos began to protest the statement with assurances that he hadn’t expected a gift in return, but Cecil shook his head with a grin.  “Silly, beautiful, Carlos.”  He pressed a kiss to the scientist’s cheek, stilling the flow of words from his lips.  “I said I didn’t _bring_ anything for you, not that I didn’t _have_ anything.  You just have to wait for the show tonight.”  Suspicion instantly crept into Carlos’s expression.  

“We agreed not to talk about our last date on the radio, Cecil..” he began.  He did not want all of Night Vale knowing about the flustered evening they had spent being falsely accused by the Sheriff’s Secret Police of non-municipally-approved physical activity during the screening of Psycho at the newly re-opened drive-in out behind the Desert Rose Bowling Alley & Arcade Fun Complex.  It had been a false accusation due to a minor incident with an uncooperative seat belt, but the entirety of the Secret Police force took it upon themselves to whistle suggestively from behind every shrub and cactus Carlos passed on the way to work the next morning.  Cecil exhaled a musical laugh.  

“Of course not, though I still think that was a wonderful evening.  No, I’ve found something special to put into the show tonight, just for you.  You’ll just have to be surprised.  And afterwards, we can try that new salmon sundae over at the White Sand.”  He brushed his lips one more time across the tip of his scientist’s nose which elicited another dizzy little smile.  It really was a perfect morning.  

-

No sooner had Cecil stepped out of the station’s glass entrance than his phone began to buzz in the back pocket of his slacks.  

“Cecil, are you alright?  What’s happened?”  Carlos’s worried voice rasped across the receiver.  

“Yes, fine.  Everything is fine,” Cecil assured even as he ran a trembling hand across his forehead and down one side of his face.  “Are you safe?  Where are you?”  

“I’m at the lab, everyone’s gone home.”  Cecil sighed in relief.  

“I’m afraid I’m not going to be able to take you out for that ice cream I promised,” he apologized with an attempt at a laugh that came out more as a strangled little gargle.  “I really wanted to, but I think-” he shot a furtive glance around at the darkened parking lot as he climbed into his car.  “I need to go check on some things around town.”  

“Don’t even worry,” Carlos said quickly.  “We can reschedule ice cream.  Did you need any help?”  Cecil smiled to himself, reminded yet again that he really did have the sweetest boyfriend in the world.  The smile vanished immediately as he realized that everyone in town _knew_ that he had the sweetest boyfriend in the world.  If he was a target, Carlos would be a target, and it would be entirely his fault for his careless detailing of his personal life on the show.

“It’s better if I go alone.  In fact,” Cecil continued urgently as his car swerved dangerously around the next corner.  “It’s better if you stay inside.  Lock your door, and don’t go near the windows.”  There was silence on the other end of the line for a long moment.  “Carlos,” he pressed, unsure if the scientist was paying attention.  

“Alright, alright,” Carlos relented.  “I won’t go near the windows.  Cecil, are you sure everything is okay?”  Cecil cautiously shut off his headlights as his car approached the old used car lot on the outskirts of town.

“Everything is fine,” he repeated slowly, carefully enunciating the words in the hope it would make them true.  

“Okay,” Carlos agreed warily.  

“I’ll call you tomorrow about that ice cream,” Cecil added as cheerily as he could.  “Be safe, my Carlos.”  He ended the call and carefully slipped the phone back into his pocket before stepping out of car and into the night.  

As Cecil went in search of Old Woman Josie, Carlos switched off the lamp on his desk, plunging the empty laboratory into a darkness only punctuated by the bright glimmers of light from the full moon that leaked in through the casement windows high up on the warehouse walls.  As he wound his way up the metal spiral of stairs to the landing, Carlos was tempted to peek out the window to see what it was that had his boyfriend so on-edge.  Despite his years of training and practice with manipulating his voice, Cecil always had trouble hiding when he was _truly_ upset.  Carlos could always tell.  He had also begun to differentiate between Cecil’s characteristic paranoia and actual justified fear.  Tonight there had been no dramatic curl to the radio host’s words; whatever StrexCorp was, it was serious.  Carlos turned away from the window and unlocked the back door to his apartment with the decision that he would press Cecil for answers in the morning.  

-

The scientist was awakened abruptly by his phone sometime after midnight.  He fumbled blindly for the buzzing device, flipping it open without bothering to check the display.  

“Hello?” he yawned as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed.  

“I’m sorry it’s so late.”

“Cecil?” Carlos asked groggily, squinting down at his left wrist out of habit before remembering he had given Cecil his only functioning watch.  

“I’m outside, Carlos.  I’m outside and everything is _not okay_.”  If there had been a fearful tremor to his voice before, it was nothing compared to the barely contained panic that filled his words now.  Carlos was immediately awake and stumbling through the darkened rooms towards the front door.  He flipped the deadbolts and flung the door wide.  Cecil was a mess.  His hair poked out in strange directions; his clothing was rumpled and untucked; his pale skin was covered in a sheen of sweat that left damp marks on the collar of his half-unbuttoned best lavender dress shirt.  

“Cecil, it’s after curfew,” Carlos whispered as he cast wary glances into the darkness of the narrow stairs squished in the alley between his lab and Big Rico’s Pizza Parlor.  “How did you - nevermind.”  Shaking the question away, he reached out and pulled Cecil inside.  

“ _Josie’s dead_ ” were the first words tumbling out of Cecil’s mouth as Carlos re-fastened the deadbolts.  

“What?  Are you sure?”  The scientist switched on an old ceramic lamp that bathed the small dining room in a dingy orange glow.  

“No.  But she’s gone, and I can’t find her.  They took her, Carlos.  They took her and they killed her or kidnapped her.  I can’t find her though gods know I looked everywhere.  They took her.”  The words were rushing, blurring together too fast.  Carlos tugged the man towards the small table and made him sit down before pulling a chair up across from him.  

“Slow down, Cecil,” he soothed.  “Who took her?”

“StrexCorp,” Cecil growled, balling his hands into fists and kneading at his eyes.  “I should have known.  I should have recognized it as soon as I saw those helicopters.  I should have known it was Strex.”  

“Why, what’s Strex?”

“Strex is everything,” Cecil blurted automatically.  “Strex took the angels and they took Josie and they took the radio station and they’re going to take Night Vale now.  Josie said herself if she fell, Night Vale would fall and she’s right, Carlos.  She’s gone, and Strex is taking everything.”  He raked shaking hands through the disarray of his hair.  His breathing was too rapid, his eyes unfocused, his complexion ashy.  Carlos was no stranger to the blind panic; he had experienced his fair share of similar attacks his first few months in Night Vale - still had to help some of his scientists through them on occasion.  

“Breathe,” Carlos whispered firmly.  Cecil did as instructed, taking first one deep breath and then another.  Eventually the shaking dissipated into a tremor as his eyes focused steadily on a worn patch of mustard yellow shag carpet at his feet.  “Now tell me what happened at the station,” Carlos gently pressed.    

“They bought it,” Cecil whispered.  

“They...bought it?” Carlos repeated.  Cecil nodded in horror.  “They paid money and now own it?” he clarified, not sure he was understanding the gravity of the situation.  Cecil nodded again.  “Cecil, corporate buyouts suck, I’ll give you that.  Having to adjust to a new boss and new rules and regulations - it’s the worst.  But it happens.  It happens all the time in fact.  It’s nothing to be worried about.”  Carlos shifted one hand to smooth out a few desperately lost strands of blond hair.  Cecil pulled back, shaking his head stubbornly.  

“Nobody just _buys_ the station, Carlos,” he snapped.  “It’s old, much older than anyone in Night Vale.  It’s existed as far back as anyone can remember.  We don’t know who owned it, how they managed it, why we were chosen for our jobs.  It’s a deep, dark part of the town.  No outside company can just wander in and buy it.  They own me now.  If I don’t do everything they say they’re going to take you, Carlos.”  The words were slurring again, his mind racing faster than his lips could form the words.  

“What’s the worst that can happen though, really?” Carlos tried again in his most calming tones.  “So you’ll be reading from a new script.  You were reading from a script as it was.  Maybe you’ll get into trouble a little quicker for talking about my hair on the radio.  Maybe I’ll finally get a haircut without vigilante justice ostracizing my barber from civilization.”  Cecil let out a choked laugh despite his panicked demeanor.  “It’s going to be okay,” Carlos reassured, reaching out his hands meekly, allowing Cecil to make the move to hold them.

“It’s not just the buyout that has me worried.  It’s not even Josie and the angels.  It’s the fact that _they_ were _there_.”  

“Who was where?” Carlos brushed his thumbs across Cecil’s palms soothingly.  

“Strex.  They were there.  Wherever I went in that portal, they were there.”  Carlos gave him a perplexed look.  Cecil sighed and tried to slow his racing mind.  “Do you remember that sandstorm last spring?”  The words required effort to come out sensibly.  

Carlos nodded.  “Yeah, the one with the doubles.  Though, I never saw my double, even though I was outside to gather samples for part of it.”  

“I saw mine.  In that portal, I saw mine and it was terrible,” Cecil whispered with a shudder.  “That horrible place where I traveled, oh Carlos,” he shook his head miserably.  “There was so much blood and entrails and human remains scattered everywhere.  Never in my life have I seen such ghastly things as I did through that portal.  And they were there.  StrexCorp, that logo from the helicopters, it was everywhere - on the bloodstained mug on the desk, on the emblem across the soaked stack of notes, on the equipment - it was everywhere, Carlos.”  His eyes snapped shut and his face twisted into a grimace as his mind got momentarily lost in the distant images.

“It’s okay, you’re safe now,” Carlos soothed.

“No, no we’re not.  They’re here now.  Maybe...maybe they always were, maybe that portal was the future, maybe that portal was _us_.”  His voice was shaky and small, an absolute contrast to its normal tones.  

“Cecil,” Carlos hesitated a moment, trying to decide if the truth would really help.  “I researched that portal as much as I could after hearing the recordings.  The only information I could find was an anonymous tip that a twin portal opened in Desert Bluffs.”  In the effort to convince Cecil, the scientist thought it best to leave out the fact that Steve Carlsberg happened to be the informant.  “It wasn’t some horrible alternate dimension or future version of us, it was Desert Bluffs.”  

Cecil looked confused.  “How can that be?  Do you think that’s where they’ve taken Josie?”  Carlos shook his head.  

“I don’t know.  I can help you look again in the morning.  Right now it’s-” he paused to glance to the watch on Cecil’s wrist. It read 7:32 AM since it was accurate and time in Night Vale was anything but.  “Late,” he finished with a smirk.  “You’ve been pretty wired, and it’s been a long day, so why don’t you get some rest?  We can figure this out tomorrow, alright?”  

“You’re right, I’m not in the best state for thinking right now.  I’m sorry I woke you up so late,” Cecil added with an attempt at a smile.

“I want you to wake me up for things like this.  You can come to me with anything that’s on your mind and I’ll do my best to help you through it.” He removed a hand to trace it along the clammy skin of Cecil’s cheek.  

“Can I use your back door?  I don’t think it’s as closely watched as the front.”  Carlos didn’t let go of his hand.  

“There’s a curfew in effect, Cecil.  I wouldn’t risk it.”  

“You-you’re asking me to stay over?” Cecil stuttered, cheeks flushing ever so slightly violet.  

“If you'd like to.” Carlos reached out a hand. "Trust me?"  Cecil hesitated only a moment before threading their fingers together and following him down the cluttered little hallway in the dark.

-

They had spent the night together before.  Carlos hadn’t been sure what to expect when a little paper invitation to stay the night was slid under the lab door one morning.  Dating in Night Vale was strange and complicated, and Cecil was eccentric and quirky, and a formal invitation to intimacy after five dates really wasn’t all that out of the ordinary.  

He had expected a whole bundle of jittery nerves, glowing things, tentacles, really anything except watching Casablanca over a disproportionately large bowl of caramel popcorn and Cecil in pink plaid flannel pajamas.  In retrospect, a formal invitation to a literal _sleepover_  really wasn’t all that out of the ordinary either.  

Carlos hadn’t expected to be lying awake at 2:00 on Cecil’s bed, both of them staring at the oozing stain on the ceiling as it arranged itself into shapes, and just talking the way people only talk at 2:00 - about dreams and the ocean and childhood sweethearts and why we can’t feel the world moving beneath our feet.  And when Cecil leaned over and kissed him, Carlos didn’t expect him to pull away suddenly with a rush of apologies the moment Carlos attempted to return the expression.  There had been a tone of rehearsal to the assurance of ‘ _it’s not you, it’s me._ ’  An apology buried in the explanation that ‘ _I’ve never really wanted that kind of relationship, never thought I could feel that way about someone, but I’m starting to with you.  A bit.  I think._ ’  Cecil had buried his face in his hands then, apologized outright for how weird the whole situation was, for being such an abnormal boyfriend.  The look of surprise on his face when Carlos replied with a simple ‘ _okay_ ’ broke the scientist’s heart a little.  The idea that a similar explanation had all been given before to any other answer, that someone along the way had dared to even plant the words ‘ _weird_ ’ and ‘ _abnormal_ ’ into Cecil’s mind at all - it made Carlos sad and angry and incredibly defensive all at once.  So he told Cecil that they’d explore it together even if it took some time.  After all - time in Night Vale didn’t seem to matter, so who would be counting?  And Cecil had smiled so brightly, kissed him so sweetly and softly and chastely this time, lips still tasting like caramel corn and mint chapstick.  And nothing glowed, and there were no tentacles - they’d simply fallen asleep against each other, with the oozing stain on the ceiling in the shape of a rabbit the last they’d checked.

They had spent several similar nights together since, all the same whirlwind of black-and-white movies, unhealthy amounts of sugary snacks, and colorful flannel.  Each time, the goodnight kisses lasted a little longer, hands wandered a little further, but Cecil had never stayed the night in the cramped double bed that lay flush on the floor in Carlos’s messy little bedroom.  Cecil was blushing even deeper violet as he carefully folded his glasses and set them on the neat pile of his work clothes on the dresser.  

“Please don’t think I’m suggesting or expecting anything by asking you to stay,” Carlos said quietly as he straightened up the blankets.  “I just didn’t think you should be alone right now.”  

“I know,” Cecil’s tone was casual, but he relaxed visibly at the reassurance, as if he had been holding his breath just a little.  He glanced around at the tiny room all cluttered with stacks of books and papers and clothes tossed haphazardly over glass piping.  “Your place is cozy.”

“It’s horrible,” Carlos laughed as he picked up a few pieces of clothing and stuffed them into a drawer.  “It’s tiny, but I spent all my appropriated housing money bribing the Secret Police for a 12-pack of BIC pens.”  Satisfied with the slightly less-disheveled state of things, he climbed onto the lumpy little bed next to his boyfriend. 

“You can always store a few things at my place if you need to.  There’s plenty of space for stuff,” Cecil offered as he nestled into the blankets.  “Or if you ever need to stay at my place for a change of scenery, there’s plenty of space for you there too.”  Carlos smiled at that as he switched out the light, glad that Cecil seemed to be back to himself again.  Through the dark, he reached for Cecil’s hand that rested in between them on the pillow.  His skin was still clammy, his pulse still unsteady beneath the scientist’s fingers.  

“I heard the weather tonight,” he whispered as he pressed a soft kiss to the slender fingers intertwined with his own.  “It was beautiful.”  

Cecil smiled shyly as he wriggled a little closer.  “I hoped you would.  I spent hours searching for the perfect song.  It’s probably silly, but I chose that one because it sounded like the way I think and the way you speak.”

“I like that.”  They were quiet for a long time, Carlos tracing the shapes of molecular structures across the back of Cecil’s hand that lay curled between them.   _Norepinephrine.  Dopamine.  Serotonin._

“You have to close your eyes to sleep,” the scientist finally murmured.

“I’m afraid if I close my eyes, they’ll take you before I open them again,” Cecil admitted, his earlier downcast expression creeping back across his face.  “You’ll disappear like Josie and Erika and-” he stopped himself, taking a deep breath to slow his racing thoughts again.

“You can’t watch me forever,” Carlos reminded him.  “I can watch out for myself for one night.  Close your eyes.”  Cecil nodded and readjusted, squirming until he was facing away, with the scientist’s arm wrapped reassuringly around his waist.  

“Tell me a story?” he asked as he laced their fingers together.

“What kind of story?” Carlos yawned.  

“It doesn’t matter.  Just keep talking until I fall asleep?”  Cecil closed his eyes as he listened to words that were reassuring even if they were in a language he couldn’t understand.  Eventually the cadence of the words began to drift until they faded into silence.  That was when Cecil opened his eyes again and stared into the inky darkness of the unfamiliar bedroom, clinging to the familiarity of the hand held carefully within his own.  Calmed by the steadiness of the scientist’s breathing, he let his mind wander to all the possible ways to deal with the problem at hand.  

-

When Carlos awoke, the other half the bed was already neatly tucked in.  He reached blindly for his glasses on his nightstand to bring the bedroom into focus.  Cecil was busily buttoning yesterday’s lavender shirt.  He had a habit in the mornings, Carlos had quickly realized, of finding a bare patch of wallpaper, settling himself in front of it, and gazing at it as if it were a mirror while he got ready.  Today was the closest he had come to normalcy as he was standing in front of the little oblong mirror affixed to Carlos’s wall, though Cecil had covered it with one of the scientist’s old lab coats for some unknown reason, rendering it just as useless as the wallpaper method.  

“You’re up early,” Carlos sighed as he stretched.  

“The sun is brighter on your side of town,” Cecil said as he knotted his tie in practiced motions.  Carlos watched him for a long time, noticing the tiny quiver in his voice and the way his hands still bore the trace of a tremor.

“You didn’t sleep at all, did you?”

“I wish I could get my hair to lie flat,” Cecil continued, completely ignoring the question.  Carlos crossed the bedroom quickly and turned his boyfriend to face him.  He combed his fingers through the tangled mess of blond hair, shifting it back into relative order.  Content with the result, he stood up on his toes to give Cecil a sleepy good morning kiss.  

“You look good.”  

Cecil turned back to the non-mirror.  “Thanks.  I just wish I’d had time to get back home and shower, or at least change clothes,” he mumbled as he straightened his tie and rolled, then unrolled his sleeves.  “I’m already running late as it is, and with new management to impress..”

“Are you still worried?” Carlos asked quietly as he folded his arms and leaned with his back against the dresser to watch Cecil adjust and readjust the plastic frames of his glasses.  

“Worried about what?” the radio host mumbled distractedly as he carefully smoothed the front of his shirt and tucked it into yesterday’s slacks.  

“StrexCorp.”  

“Why would I be worried about StrexCorp?  Buyouts happen every day,” Cecil shrugged.  Carlos stared at him for a moment.

“That’s not exactly how you felt about it last night.”  

Cecil waved a hand.  “Last night I was tired and out of sorts.”  Carlos couldn't help but be slightly off-put by Cecil's nonchalance.

“Why are you acting like everything’s fine?” 

“Because everything _is_ fine,” Cecil assured as he neatly folded down his collar.  

“Everything is not fine, Cecil.  You had a full-on panic attack in my dining room six hours ago.  You were-”

“Out of sorts,” Cecil repeated.  

“Scared,” Carlos finished emphatically.  “You have lived here your whole life, witnessed horrible things, and I’ve still never seen you such a terrified wreck as you were last night.  Why are you acting like nothing’s happened and everything’s fine?”

“What do you want me to say, Carlos?” Cecil asked sharply, looking away from the non-mirror with a glimmer of the same panic in his eyes.  “That I didn’t sleep at all last night because every time I closed my eyes I saw another horrible way they could hurt you?  That I have no idea what will happen today or tomorrow or the day after that, or if there will even _be_ any days after that?”  There was a faint, unexpected staticky surge in the room that caused the lights to flicker momentarily.  “Yes, Carlos, I’m terrified.  I feel like I’m struggling just to keep breathing normally.”  His voice dropped to a hush, though his hands still clutched the edge of the dresser so tightly his knuckles were white.  “I’m doing everything I know how to protect you.”  

“Just don’t lie, don’t keep things from me,” Carlos snapped.  Then a little gentler, “You’re not the only one who’s afraid of losing things, you know.”  Cecil’s eyes caught on the watch carefully fastened on his right wrist.  All at once, the electricity lost its intensity, the lights dimming back to their normal muted yellow.

“I’m sorry.”  

Carlos nodded in response.  “So what do we do now?”

Cecil took a deep breath and looked back at the non-mirror as he carefully brushed through his hair one last time.  “We continue on as if nothing has happened.  Business as usual.  Keep a watchful eye out for any changes, anything suspicious as you carry on about your day, but avoid shifts in routine for now.  Keep your head down and give them no reason to single you out.  I’m late already, so I think I could make us both a cup of instant coffee before I go, if you’d like.”

“Cecil, everything’s going to be okay, right?” the scientist asked quietly after a moment.  Cecil turned and took his boyfriend’s face in both hands, pressing a reassuring kiss to his forehead.  

“Of course it is.”  He smiled and offered a hand.  “Trust me.”

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a while back with no intention of really sharing it, but then I noticed a lack of demisexual/grey-asexual Cecilos headcanons, so I decided this was worth fixing up and sharing. I also have a headcanon that Carlos speaks Spanish as a first language and that Cecil only knows a few words, but likes listening to him talk because he thinks his voice is even more beautiful in Spanish. anyway, thanks for reading~


End file.
